The Rogue Celebrant

I imagine we all know the Easter story, don’t we?

The women went to the tomb, found that it was empty, discovered that Jesus had risen and was alive, and then – full of joy – ran off back to the disciples, to tell them about it.

That’s right, isn’t it? That’s what happened, yes? Not quite.

Let’s take a look at how Matthew describes what happened, in chapter 28 and verse 8:

⁸ So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy.

So although we’re used to thinking about those women at the grave being “filled with joy” to learn that Christ is alive, I don’t know how often we think about them being “afraid”, even after discovering that he’d risen.

What’s going on? Can we get a handle on that “afraid yet filled with joy” feeling?

Let me tell you a story about someone I know. This person is a writer, whose work has appeared in a variety of formats –TV scripts, audio plays, novels, all sorts of comic books.

We were at a convention a few years ago – at Picocon, I think – and we asked him if life was treating him well, if anything new was happening. “Yes,” he replied carefully. He said he wasn’t in a position to talk much about this new project, but eventually he went on to say “I’m going to be published soon in a format in which I’ve never appeared before.”

You could see that he had something of this “afraid yet filled with joy” feeling about him. Something big was afoot, but he really wasn’t able to talk about it very much, if at all.

And then, a little while later, we heard that he and his wife were going to become parents for the first time. Then we understood what was making him “afraid yet filled with joy”.

See, it doesn’t matter how much you’ve been told, how much you’ve read or studied, when a new baby arrives in your life there is no telling what’s going to change, or how. Suddenly, you’re a post-singularity family, and no prior preparation is adequate.

Here’s the thing: when the women at the graveside understood about the resurrection, when they realised that Christ had risen, that Christ is alive, it was suddenly evident that nothing they’d read or studied before would prepare them for the changes to come.

What the resurrection teaches us is that all our attempts to control God through religion are doomed. He’s no longer in the box that religion built for him. He’s out of the box, and he’s not going back in. And nothing we’ve read or studied can prepare us for what the newly-arrived Risen Christ can do. Be afraid, be very afraid – but be filled with joy too.

So today is the fourth Sunday in Advent. And don’t we hear a lot about Mary at this time of year!
That’s no surprise, really; the fourth Sunday in Advent has always been the day when we take time to think about Mary, to take the time to think about when the Angel came to Mary to tell her that she was going to have a child, and to take the time to think about the nature of her response.
Sometimes, someone like me will stand at the front of the church and get one of the young people to pretend to be Mary, and another to pretend to be the Angel, and we’ll have a little drama where we play out the Angel’s message and Mary’s response.
But in the Gospel reading appointed for today, we also hear about Joseph’s response. Take a moment to read it now, from Matthew 1:18-25.
So Mary’s response to the Angel’s message, “I am the Lord’s servant, let it happen as you describe“, formed a vital part in how this story played out. And every time you see the Christmas story dramatised, you get that scene with the angel visiting Mary, and you see Mary’s response to the message. Famous composers have set her response to music. On Thursday night this week I watched a Christmas episode of “Family Guy”, where they were retelling the Christmas story, and as usual the angel visits Mary, and we get Mary’s response to the news: “I am the Lord’s servant, let it happen as you have said”.
But no-one ever talks about Joseph’s response. He learns that the young woman he’s intending to marry is going to have a baby, a baby that Joseph knows is nothing to do with him. And in those times, amongst that community, if he accuses Mary of adultery – of carrying on with another man – he knows that it will mean serious trouble for Mary. Possibly even death, according to the Law of Moses. Because Joseph is a good man, he decides he’s just going to call off the wedding quietly … and then he gets a message by way of a visit from an angel. And the angel tells him what’s going on, tells him he should marry Mary anyway … and Joseph goes on to do exactly what the Angel told him to do.
So Joseph’s response to the message from the Lord forms a vital part of how this story plays out. And most of the time, the struggle that Joseph had with this decision, and the message from the angel that visited him, and his response to that message, never makes it into the School Play, or the big 17th/18th century classical music number, or even the Christmas episode of some TV cartoon show.
Here’s the thing: it’s not just Mary and Joseph, every person in the Gospel narrative makes a difference to how that story plays out, and while some of those scenes get retold again and again and again, some of those scenes never see the light of day again.
And God has a plan for every one of us, without exception, whether anyone else gets to hear about it or not. God has a plan for me, and God has a plan for you. So when some message from God comes your way, when you discover what God’s plan for you might be, then remember that Mary and Joseph were ordinary people, just like you and me, and remember that they both made themselves freely available for God’s plan.
See, Joseph has a plan. He’s an ordinary chap, so it’s an ordinary plan. There’s this young woman who’s engaged to him, and no doubt he’s thinking about how they’re going to get married, settle down, maybe one day have a family. He’s a good man, it’s a good plan.
But then Mary comes to him and tells him that she’s going to have a baby. And Joseph knows the Law of Moses, because he lives amongst a people who are faithful to that law. And in Leviticus 20, it says that the punishment for adultery is death. That certainly isn’t part of Joseph’s plan!
But Matthew tells us that “Joseph was a good man and did not want to embarrass Mary in front of everyone, so he decided to call off the wedding, quietly.” And, quietly, Joseph’s plan, and life, and future, would have fallen apart, just as comprehensively as Mary’s would have done. He’s attempting damage limitation, but anything he might do is still going to destroy any plans he may have made.
And then an angel from the Lord comes to him, and tells him of God’s wonderful plan. “The baby that Mary will have is from the Holy Spirit”, it says, “go ahead and marry her.”
And then Joseph, who has been completely lost within this appalling choice that he’s been faced with, does exactly what the angel from the Lord tells him to do. And although his own plans have fallen apart, he thereby becomes part of God’s plan for his creation. His pride, and his pain, and his shame, and the potential shame and pain for Mary, have been swallowed up in the freedom that the Lord offers.
Would that we could swallow up our pride and pain and shame in God’s freedom too!
There’s another reading appointed for today, from one of Paul’s letters. Take a moment now to read Romans 1:1-7.
“Jesus chose me,” says Paul, “so that people of all nations would obey and have faith.” Joseph obeyed and had faith, having been chosen alongside Mary as parents of Christ. And Paul continues, to say “you are some of those people chosen by Jesus Christ. […] God loves you, and has chosen you to be his very own people.”
Do you remember what I said earlier? God has a plan for every one of us. God has a plan for me, and God has a plan for you. And I can’t tell you what God’s plan for you is, I can’t tell you whether it’ll fit in with your own plans or not, I can’t tell you how you might learn of it. There’s no way of knowing. And of course I can’t guarantee for you a visit from one of his angels in a dream like Joseph had, and I certainly can’t offer you an experience to parallel the one that Paul had on the road to Damascus. I can’t even tell you when you’ll find out.
But when, like Joseph, you can see that the future you thought you were building is being torn apart, when you can see pride and shame battling to destroy your world … and 2016 has not been a good year for the world, there are many ways in which the world we’ve been trying to build is being torn apart. When, like Joseph, you can see that the future you thought you were building is being torn apart, when you can see pride and shame battling to destroy your world, when the only plan you have is an attempt at damage limitation, then the best thing you can do to restore your life is to recognise that God has a plan for you, to accept that God longs to take away your fear and pain and shame, and your pride, and allow him to replace them all with his salvation.

So we’ve lived through the time of ill-will and conflict that led up to the recent referendum, and persisted through the ensuing fallout. We’ve seen our country divided against itself, with resentment on both sides.
We’ve seen the recent incidents in Nice, in Turkey, in Baghdad, in Dallas and Baton Rouge, in Jeddah and Medina. And elsewhere.

And in the midst of all that, I started to think about what I might say at a meeting I’m going to tonight.

I’ve been thinking about what I’ll be saying for about a week and a half now. And I found in the lectionary readings for the Sunday before last, in Luke 1:25-37, setting the context for the story of the Good Samaritan, a teacher of the Law asking how to receive eternal life. And as a partial response to the question, he says “love your neighbour as yourself”, a reference to Leviticus 19.

So I looked it up, and I read the law he was talking about. In Leviticus 19:17-18, it says “Do not bear a grudge against others, but settle your differences with them, so that you will not commit a sin because of them. Do not take revenge on others or continue to hate them, but love your neighbours as you love yourself. I am the Lord.”

Those two verses from Leviticus are in the middle of a whole section which, in the translation we use here, is entitled “Laws of Holiness and Justice“.

And then this week, in Psalm 15, we had a catalogue of ways to do what the Lord requires. The psalmist talks about “those who obey God in everything and always do what is right, whose words are true and sincere and who do not slander others.” He says “they always do what they promise no matter how much it may cost.” And he goes on to say “whoever does these things will always be secure“.

So I’m now newly resolved, as I participate in post-referendum planning in my business life, and post-referendum discussions in my social life, not to bear a grudge against others or slander them, to keep my words true and sincere, to do what I promise no matter what the cost, and to love my neighbour as myself.

Keeping hold of that resolution isn’t easy given the tone of some of those discussions, so let’s call it a work in progress.

I hope others are doing the same.